


Jim's Umbrellas

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, jim has a giant crush on oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: When Jim realises that he's crushing hard on Oswald, he finally asks him out on a date. HA, GOT YOU! Y'all know Jim sucks with words, so instead he actually just starts wearing clothes with umbrellas on them and waits for a miracle.





	Jim's Umbrellas

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the story idea goes to faerydae-faerydae, who graciously let me use it. :) Many thanks to Nekomata589191 for the beta! :D
> 
> I hope you will all like this silly and fluffy story - I think we all need a bit of sweetness after the last lame episodes.

As with most important things in life, Jim finally admitting that he had a crush on Oswald started with an insignificant little thing. He was on a rare shopping trip – there were only so many times his suits and shirts survived blood splatters – when he noticed a clearance of socks. Since he hadn't received adult Christmas gifts – also known as socks – for years, he was running out of decent pairs without holes in them. The top one looked like it contained black pairs, which was just fine with him.

 

Just out of curiosity, he flipped it. There, nestled between two black pairs was one that had an umbrella pattern on it.  _ Little purple umbrellas. _ Jim's eyes widened and he looked around furtively. His first instinct was to put it back in the pile, but something didn’t let him. While he paid, he felt like a naughty teenager, buying booze for the first time with a fake ID.

 

But then, surprisingly, the world didn't end the first time he wore them. It was a normal day in Gotham, crime still happened and the GCPD were doing their best to stop it. He felt exposed at first, thought his co-workers would spot it and call him out on his bullshit. After an hour passed, however, he calmed down and smiled secretly to himself. Perhaps it was silly, but this was exciting.

 

After that, Jim had no issues wearing his umbrella socks. It always made him smile in the mornings when he picked them from his drawer. He didn’t give much thought to  _ why  _ wearing a symbol of Gotham’s most notorious gangster gave him such a thrill – he was the type of person who pushed such thoughts to the back of his mind.  
  


* * *

 

A couple of weeks later, however, Jim had a slight scare. He was at the precinct, reading through old files with Harvey and trying to find possible connections to a current case. As Harvey was explaining why he didn’t think the report in front of him would be of any help, he dropped the pen that he was using to gesticulate.

 

“Damn,” he cursed as he got under the table.

 

Jim didn’t even register that his friend was getting so close to his legs, until Harvey bumped into him.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Sorry, Jimbo, my pen flew under your seat,” Harvey mumbled, the rest of his words too muffled.

 

Jim’s heart started thumping fast. What if Harvey noticed the pattern of his socks? That was ridiculous, though, they were too tiny and the place was too dark, he couldn’t see them. At least that was what Jim was telling himself, and it was only thanks to his military past that his face showed no emotion.

 

“God, my back,” Harvey complained as he got it, holding his pen up for Jim to see. “I’m too old for this.”

 

Jim smiled. Everything was fine, Harvey didn’t see anything, or he would have made a comment otherwise. “Try not playing with your pen next time.”

 

Later that day, Jim saw Oswald. Oswald spotted him from afar and raised his hand in greeting, his smile wide. He didn’t want to, but Jim smiled back and somehow Oswald’s face lit up even more, holding the detective’s gaze until he got into his car. Jim almost walked into a pole as he kept looking back at Oswald’s black limousine. A few people around him sniggered, and Jim hurried away before he made an even bigger ass of himself.

 

* * *

 

The next item that crept into his life was an old t-shirt Jim found in one of the boxes he had lying around in his flat. He’d never really bothered unpacking them until then; he felt like he was never really settled, even though he moved in over a year ago. So when he became unexpectedly motivated to get his place in order, he decided to start with the boxes, see what he wanted to keep and what would be given away.

 

The box marked as ‘clothes’ was really old, most of it stuff he'd owned before joining the military. Jim would have thrown out the shabby, grey t-shirt until he’d noticed the blue umbrella logo on the left side of his chest. It was different to the one Oswald’s club had, but it still reminded him of the gangster. Jim remembered he’d used it as a pyjama top when he was younger; it was large and soft, ideal for sleeping.

 

In truth, he didn’t lack t-shirts or pyjamas, but Jim saved this item, unlike the rest of the clothes which went to charity. He figured that no one would see his nightwear, so there was nothing to worry about. So once the item was freshly laundered, Jim put it on. He lied awake in his bed, listening to the distant sounds of the city, the lights from outside painting strange shapes on his wall.

 

It was getting harder to ignore the fact that he really liked Oswald. At the beginning, he thought it was just physical attraction. Oswald was, by all accounts, really handsome and he seemed to become more refined with each day. But it soon became evident that there was a bond between them, perhaps born on that day when Jim saved Oswald’s life on the pier.

 

They kept doing that, saving each other, as if they could never let go. Jim really started to believe that and the protectiveness that always rose inside him around Oswald seemed to confirm it. He knew that Oswald could stand up for himself, but the looks Oswald gave him after being even half decent to him were like a breath of new life. 

 

Besides, he never stopped being impressed by Oswald’s intelligence. He was a master schemer, and no one would ever be able to climb the ladder quite like him. If only he didn’t use his brilliant mind and ambition for nefarious purposes…

 

And yet, Jim’s feelings didn’t care about Oswald’s career choices. They raged hard, especially in those moments when Jim let his guard down and didn’t try to control them. Funnily enough, his thoughts didn’t just go in the direction he’d imagined they would – what made him really swoon were little moments of tenderness, like Oswald kissing his cheek or him cooking Oswald pancakes and serving them in bed. He genuinely ached for these moments to become true.

 

Just then, there was a knock at his door and Jim sat up, alarmed. He got his gun and crept to his front door, careful to avoid the creaky spots of his floorboards.

 

The knock came again. “James, it's me. Please open up.”

 

Oswald.

 

Oh shit, Oswald couldn't see his t-shirt. Jim took the first thing from his coat hanger which turned out to be his leather jacket. There was no time to change it now, so he opened the door. He hoped he didn’t look panicked.

 

Oswald was standing there, leaning against the door frame, his lilac shirt bloodied at the collar from a wound he was sporting on the side of his head. His eyes widened as if not expecting Jim to answer the door.

 

“I'm sorry to bother-”

 

“Christ, what happened to you? Come in,” Jim said, grabbing Oswald by his forearm and taking him inside his apartment, before one of his ‘concerned’ neighbours got involved.

 

Jim effectively pushed Oswald onto his sofa then went to get his first aid kit. He had a vague dèja vu feeling, for he had done this one time when Oswald turned up at a late hour and asked Jim to patch him up, so his mother wouldn't have to see him all roughed up. Jim probably hadn't been exactly sober, that was why he'd accepted to do it.

 

Now he had no good excuse.

 

“What happened?” Jim asked as he started cleaning the wound.

 

Oswald winced slightly. “Deal gone wrong. Doesn't matter. I hope you don't mind me coming here, but I was nearby…”

 

“It's fine. Just try to stay out of trouble.”

 

“I do, but trouble always finds me.”

 

Jim pretty much forgot how to breathe when Oswald smiled at him. He frowned, pretending to be preoccupied to keep up appearances while he finished cleaning the wound. 

 

“Were you going somewhere?” Oswald asked, pointing at Jim’s leather jacket.

 

Jim played with the zipper, pulling it up so his umbrella logo wouldn’t show. “Oh uh… I forgot to buy, uh, milk.”

 

Oswald raised an eyebrow; after all, it was past midnight. Jim tried his best not to look like a man who was caught lying.

 

“I should go.” He watched Jim for a moment and the detective imagined what it would be like to invite him to stay, maybe have breakfast together... Jim quickly snapped out of his fantasy when he saw Oswald wince, and reached out to stabilise him before he stumbled into something.

 

“Careful there,” Jim said and he gulped. He didn’t realise how close Oswald was, and he made the mistake of glancing at his lips. He finally let go of Oswald’s arm and they walked awkwardly to the door.

 

“Thank you, James. I won’t forget this.”

 

“It’s alright. Take care out there,” Jim said, heart aching as Oswald smiled at him.

 

He closed the door and leaned against it. God, he was almost caught. Oswald almost caught him in his old umbrella shirt. Jim laughed at the absurdity of wearing the leather jacket inside. “Going out for milk, Jesus Christ,” he mumbled sleepily, snorting at his on lame excuse.

 

He fell asleep replaying Oswald’s smile in his mind.

 

* * *

 

So far, Jim had passed the umbrella-test quite easily, but as he watched himself in the mirror, he feared that his newest item would not fly over the radar so easily.

 

As always, it was an unexpected purchase in the Fashion District where he was led by a case. He went there alone, to interview an old lady who was the suspect’s mother. After he finished interviewing her, Jim was walking towards his car when he noticed a very elegant, though maybe slightly old-fashioned shop. There were at least a hundred pairs of cufflinks on display, fancy hats and ties hanging from above. Jim’s heart stopped when he spotted a dark blue tie with what looked like tiny umbrellas on it.

 

Five minutes later he came out of the shop with a small bag and a lighter wallet. He’d never spent so much on a tie, but the shop assistant assured him that it was branded and made out of silk, so totally worth the investment. 

 

Jim smoothed his fingers over the fine material. He imagined Oswald tying it for him with a proud smile, hands lingering as he would lean in to whisper _ ‘so people know that you belong to me’ _ . That thought alone painted Jim’s cheek crimson, and he tried to steer clear from them as much as possible, the anxiety over what his colleagues would say overpowering his fantasies of Oswald grabbing him by the tie.

 

Once he made it to the precinct, Jim hesitated. The moment he’d take off his jacket, there was no way back anymore. Everyone would be able to see. He looked around, then quickly took off the garment and sat by his desk, nose buried in a file. The first person he interacted with was Harvey, who was too busy with his Danish, and anyway, Jim was keeping the file in front of him as a cover.

 

Unfortunately, he forgot about it when Alvarez approached them with some queries and Jim put down the file. Alvarez was still talking when Jim noticed Harvey staring at him – or rather at his chest - with narrowed eyes. He felt exposed, but tried not to acknowledge it. He couldn’t walk with a file in front of him, that’d be even more suspicious.

 

Throughout the day, Jim noticed Harvey staring at him, sometimes with this aggravated look. At one point it seemed like he was going to say something, but then he just shook his head. Well, if Harvey didn't start the awkward talk, Jim sure as hell wouldn't. It was just a tie, at least that's what he'd told himself, even though it meant more.

 

Because it was one thing wearing socks that probably no one would notice, but a completely different thing to have an umbrella tie on display on his chest for the whole world to see. It wasn't that he jumped from ‘hating’ Oswald to liking him from one day to another, but the transformation was taking place inside him, and so the outside world could perceive it as a shock. Jim squared his shoulders, ready to face every attack from either Harvey or his other co-workers.

 

However, no comment ever came. If Jim hadn’t run from his own thoughts, he would have realised how suspicious that was.

 

* * *

 

Harvey knew from the first moment he saw Penguin and Jim share the same space that the gangster had a huge crush on Jim. It was so obvious, even a blind man could see it. For a long time, he was convinced that Jim had absolutely no intention of reciprocating those feelings as he pushed Cobblepot away harden than strictly necessary. And yet…

Jim Gordon kept saving the little cockroach’s life. If asked, Jim claimed it was his civic duty and Harvey often asked himself just how stupid his friend could be, until that morning when he spotted Jim’s umbrella socks. It was just a flash while Jim got on his tiptoes, trying to reach the last pack of coffee in the cupboard. At first he waved his hand at the idea, then thought he could have a closer look.

 

So Harvey stooped to the low trick of dropping his pen and having a look at Jim’s socks… which were indeed umbrella-patterned. He made sure he schooled his expression by the time he got up, so that his friend wouldn’t suspect anything.

 

It could be just a random pair, but Harvey had seen enough to know coincidences like this didn’t happen… he couldn’t be sure, but he’d had the impression that Penguin and Jim were friendlier with each other.

 

His suspicions were confirmed when a few days later, after interrogating some moron, he found Jim and Oswald talking in a quiet corner of the precinct. Normally, Jim would be looking around, as if trying to flee or making sure that no one saw him, but now he was completely engrossed in the conversation, at some point even blushing and looking at the ground. Oh boy, this was serious.

 

Even worse, Jim’s crush got so out of hand that one day he actually wore an umbrella-patterned tie. Harvey honestly thought he was hallucinating. Goody two-shoes Jim Gordon publicly declaring his love for the most dangerous gangster in the city. He might as well wear a flashing neon sign above his head, announcing that he was into gangsters called Penguin.

 

To top everything, Jim actually thought that he was subtle with his sartorial choices, as if he didn’t work in a building full of detectives… After the tie incident, Harvey heard Hutch and Turner snicker at Jim’s expense while preparing their lunch in the kitchen. Hutch and Turner, who were notoriously the worst detectives of the GCPD.

 

“Did you see Gordon’s tie? Do you think Penguin gave it to him?”

 

“Oh, you bet. Or maybe he picked up the wrong tie off from the floor, if you know what I mean.”

 

Harvey had to admit that shit was funny, but he barked at the two of them to shut up and and get back to their own business. He didn’t think the relationship had progressed quite so far, but he needed to stop rumours before Jim came to work in umbrella boxer briefs. Jim was acting like a smitten teenager, but he most probably still kept it – or tried to – under wraps. Which meant that quite possibly not even the object of his love knew. 

 

Initially, Harvey had decided not to get involved. He didn’t even remark upon Jim’s tie, even though he was very tempted to do so on several occasions. But then Jim started acting more and more like a lovefool, staring into nothing and smiling, probably daydreaming of Oswald in stockings, or whatever other weird fetish he had. Harvey really didn’t need to know the details, but someone ought to inform Oswald to make a move, because Jim wouldn’t.

 

That was how Harvey ended up at Oswald’s mansion, feeling more out of place than ever. They stared down each other with Penguin, both of them observing the other distrustfully. Harvey had only said that it was about Jim and that it was important, then had to assure Penguin that no, Jim was not in danger. The little freak still cared about Jim, just as he suspected.

 

“So, why did you come, Detective? Out with it.”

 

Harvey sighed. “I think we’ll both need a drink first.”

 

* * *

 

Oswald was tapping his foot in front of the GCPD, tucked in a corner, hidden by his black umbrella. Not that the people exiting paid any mind to him, and anyway, very few officers were as dedicated as James and would not stay quite so much overtime. He checked his watch again, it was almost half past seven. God, why did he even listen to Bullock, what if this was an elaborate lie...

 

Except he knew it wasn’t. Of course, he would never trust Bullock’s word alone, so he’d quietly slipped into Jim’s flat while he was at work, and had a quick look at his wardrobe. Indeed, he found the items mentioned by the detective. Jim really owned clothes with umbrellas on them. As much as he wanted to and hoped, Oswald knew that didn’t mean Jim was into him. But he had to try, or he would forever regret it.

 

After what felt like an eternity, Jim finally came out. He looked at the sky above, surprised by the downpour. He raised the collar of his coat, ready to face the unholy weather, but then he must have felt Oswald’s eyes on him and turned to the left.

 

“Oswald?”

 

“Hello, James. Old friend.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Jim sounded so different; shocked, yes, but his gaze was soft.

 

“I came to give you this,” Oswald said, tilting the umbrella, and then raising it so that it now covered both of them.

 

Jim glanced at the umbrella; he was truly confused now. “Umm… thank you?”

 

Oswald looked out at the violet night and street, the city quiet except for when a car would pass through puddles and splash water on the sidewalk. It was now or never. “Rumour has it that you‘ve been collecting garments with umbrella patterns.” He barely dared to glance at Jim, cheeks blushing as he continued, “Thought you might like to have the real deal.”

 

There was no reply, just the pitter-patter of the rain on the canopy of the umbrella, and Oswald told himself that he should just give it to Jim and then walk home in the rain, let it wash away his misery.

 

His hand that was holding the umbrella was covered by warm fingers. Oswald looked up, lips parting. 

 

“Thank you,” Jim said with a shy smile, and Oswald felt like the whole world turned upside down, it was so beautiful. “Would you like to share it with me?”

 

Jim’s thumb stroked his fingers, his bobbing Adam’s apple a sign of nervousness. Oswald could only smile dumbly as Jim offered his arm and he hooked his through it. As if Oswald would ever say no.

 

This was why he loved umbrellas; they could cover so much, bring together parts which seemed so different at first. He would never have believed that Jim would be open to his affections, and yet here they were, their shoulders brushing with each step. His grip tightened around Jim’s arm. The rain slowed, a quiet tip-tap on the umbrella above them, and Oswald tried to fight a smile at all the looks Jim was stealing at him, as if he couldn’t stop his eyes from always wandering back. 

 

Oswald looked too, and he found Jim stunningly beautiful in the orange light cast by the streetlamps. What a ridiculous man he was, wearing umbrella-patterned clothes to signal his changing feelings. He could have just asked Oswald out on a date like a normal human. Oswald smiled at that; they were anything but normal.

 

When he caught one of Jim's furtive looks, Oswald didn’t look away but held his gaze. It was perfect, better than anything he’d ever imagined, and he brought Jim closer by his lapels, kissing him sweetly in the middle of the road.

 

After all, umbrellas were great covers too.

  
  



End file.
